Scars Define Us
by Random209
Summary: Daryl was his name, the guy who found me. He found me with my black eye, split lip, and all that mess. He was skeptical when I said I "fell". He should be. I didn't fall. But my dad was dead now, thanks to me. I thought I'd never heal. That I'd be that same scared girl hiding in her closet alone. That was until Daryl showed me Carl. (Carl/OC) (Season 3) warning child abuse
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You didn't care.

I'm surprised he lasted this long.

Hell, I'm surprised_ I_ lasted this long!

I sat there. Watching as he drank his problems away without a care in the world.

_He should care._

I sometimes wonder what is in the drink he has, what makes him do the crazy things he does. What drink could be so addicting that he beat and eventually killed his wife and continues to beat me?

It must be amazing.

Although the one time I tried it, it tasted like shit.

He shouldn't be drinking.

Has he forgotten that there biters _everywhere?_

We just barely got out of that store alive!

In fact if I hadn't used my knife, he'd be dead.

I should have let him die.

Doesn't he know that he destroyed me?

That he destroyed my mom?

That things will never be the same for me?

**_Ever_**?

He took my own mother's_ life_! He wasted his life. That's all there really is to it. Thanks to him, the only thing that defines me is my scars.

_What he gave to me._

**_This chapter was REALLY short, but I had to make it quick because of homework situations... thanks for reading though! OH! And I made my own trailer for this story on YouTube if you wanna check it out, watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=NgsrEfi0pQQ_**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Stop!

He sat down in the woods at a tree, signaling it was time to stop.

I felt my heart racing, just only surviving the few seconds before.

Arms bleeding, heart pounding, and heavy breathing.

_I'm alive._

I sat down Indian style at a tree farther away from him. Well, more like I fell down against the tree.

It's not unusual that I'm bleeding or bruised, especially when Dad gets high, but it's still scary.

I've always been scared that someday I'll get a cut or something and I can't stop it from bleeding. Then after laying on the ground, not able to move, I'll just painfully die of bleeding.

And that's ironic, because I'm usually hurt and bleeding.

Anyway, back to my arms.

There were too many biters, I only had a knife, exits were blocked, and Dad had ditched me and had been running out at that moment.

So I broke a window and jumped off a table, getting to the window, some glass shards impaled my skin.

Now I'm here, lying against a tree, quietly getting out some bandages I had packed. I haven't used them a lot, but I know I need it.

Wrapping my arms, carefully and making sure not to use it all up (I'll definitely need it later) I leaned back and stared at the sky.

I imagined myself in heaven.

I'd be with Mom, hopefully. She wasn't awful, but she was still a drug addict and I doubt she really confessed much.

"What the hell you lookin' at bitch?" My dad's gruff voice boomed, I snapped myself back into reality.

The cold, hard reality.

I do that a lot, find a spot, anywhere, and just let my mind go. "Nothin'" I say, but of course, its only_ just_ above a whisper. He glares at me, wondering if its worth it to beat my ass. He goes back to sticking the needle up his arm.

I'm happy he isn't mad, but I want to groan.

It's all just a big joke to Dad. He doesn't realize that anything could happen any moment. A biter could get him, a herd could catch us, survivors could find us, _anything_!

A low growling sound came from behind the trees. I jump up, although knowing full well Dad could snap at me for the noise. But no, _I don't care_, otherwise we're dead.

Knife grasped firmly in my hand, I get in reach of it. I have to sort of jump to stab its head (I'm too short). It comes falling down, dead **forever.**

I'm still never going to be fully okay with killing, even though in this world, you need to kill. It's just the fact that this was a person! A person who thought they could survive! Or maybe they weren't even expecting to die! But then they got bitten, leaving them alone knowing the fact that they'd soon be dead. Turned into another one of the things that bit them. Unable to stop it. _Helpless._

As I bend down to get my knife, still caught in the biter's brain, I hear my dad finally say something.

"Don't get yer knife."

What?!

Why not?!

I look back to see my dad, he's grinning like the devil. "Come on over here." He says, in a tone smooth and deep. I felt a wave of fear roll over my body. He's not nice to anyone, hell, I think this is the first time he doesn't seem angry with me. Which only leaves me with the other option.

Something I _**really**_ don't want to have to endure again.

But whatever he wants is better than what would happen if I disobeyed him. Besides I already took my chances with the biter. So I stand back up and walk to him. Eyes on the ground. Fear grasping me more and more as I travel closer to the monster.

"_Good girl._" He says. I feel fear. Something I've known from early on, ever since I was at least four years old. I stand in front of him, he's just staring up at me from the ground, leaning against the tree with that same look on his face. The look of desire. He obviously doesn't just wanna talk. "Take off your shirt." He demands. My heart dropped. Shivers were sent up and down my experienced body. Memories flash to my eyes.

The same look.

The same demands.

_The same intention._

But what neither of us were expecting happened.

"_No_!"

Were those _my_ words?! They couldn't be! I have _never_ stood up for myself **ever**!

"**Excuse me**?!" My dad replied. His voice wasn't smooth or deep anymore, just furious. He was ready to rage.

"No!" I said again.

I was actually saying this?!

"I'm not gonna let you fuck me again just cus' you can't catch a lady after you killed mom!"

I actually covered my mouth after saying that. I am dead! Oh, God I am so totally fucking dead!

Before I could think anything else, he was up, and in a flash I felt my face being shoved against the tree.

Then I heard his zipper being pulled.

_No!_

* * *

_**Child abuse is something I am not going to "glamorize" for the internet. This stuff can and does happen. If you are being abused, tell your teachers, call the police, and don't keep quiet about it!**_

_So__ yeah, I tried to just kinda start it over again, same stuff, just season 3. I kinda built Skylar up by what I feel she'd be like in season 3. She'd be tougher, cause she's endured so much, but still scared._

_And about the story, I __**PROMISE**__ after the first two chapters it won't be so dark. Stay awesome you guys!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: I'm not letting you!

_NO!_

This wasn't it. This couldn't be my future, I just can't have it happen again! I've survived this far, and I don't plan to be pregnant now! I took a breath and went at it.

I kicked backwards, hitting anywhere I could, making sure to stomp on his foot.

"Ow, you little-" He spat, trying to dodge my kicks, but he was drunk and high (on something) and couldn't dodge my feet.

**_Its all your fault, Dad!_**

Then I kicked him where he was _really_ tender. Worst part was that he had his zipper down.

_**You brought me to this!**_

He could have just about flown backwards, holding his crotch while making an angry groan.

**_You __fucking __killed her right in front of me!_**

I started to run, scared, alert, and hurt. My legs began to make their journey away from the scene.

_BAM!_

Ow. Pain. A blur of skin, trees, and the grass. The world turned sideways and the ground met me. The world spun for a moment.

As soon as I was down, I felt weight shove me down harder into the ground. Hands on my My eyes adjusted for a second before another force hit the other side of my face.

Another.

Another.

"You should fuckin' know better than to mess wit' yer daddy!" A gruff voice growled. His voice.

My eyes _finally _decided to adjust, and I saw him. I was pinned down, his fist was bloody and hovering above me. Threatening to slam me down again. His eyes where full of rage.

I felt like I wanted to sink into the ground. His rage only meant more pain.

The tears came to my eyes as the pain started to _really_ sink in.

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry!_

I could do anything to set the monster off, but _crying_? That was a sin. If I cried in front of him, I might as well throw myself down a well and drown.

_"Cryin's fer babies. I don't raise no fuckin' babies."_

"Aw don't tell me yer gonna start ta fuckin' _**cry**_?!" He roared.

_I'm in for it._

"You stupid worthless bitch! Can't take a fuckin' fist!" He growled.

I felt the blood trickle down.

The tears threatened to fall, blurring my vision. Those same tears that would get me in trouble each time.

My heart thumped. Body shook. His fist seemed still visible through my tears.

He took a strangled breath and proceeded to make a smile.

But he had to work at this smile, like he was trying to get over the fact that I hadn't let him.

His hand went to my shoulder, going under the tank and started to slide.

Farther and farther it went, shivers racing up and down my body as I felt more and more uncomfortable.

He felt over the scars, and I shifted a little, making a little whimpering sound.

His breathing went low and steady, his eyes closed as his hand went to the edge of my bra, his finger snaking under.

**NO!**

I start to scream, as loud as I could, stopping his _moment _and he opened his eyes wide and shot his hand out from under my shirt to cover my mouth.

He yanked me up by my hair, shushing me in the process.

He basically set me on his lap, leaving me helpless and scared.

He faced me, leaning me against his chest while I lay there, stuck looking at the trees while being silenced, knowing that the monster had me. Right behind me, holding me, stroking my hair.

I want to cry, I want to cry until someone saves me! I don't care who!

_"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay."_

His voice was the death of me.

Just below a whisper, ready to violate me.

_"Now why don't you stop yelling and use your mouth for something better."_

Then those fucking tears **fell**.

I let out a strangled sob and felt completely done with life.

**_SMACK!_**

It surprised me more than anything. I went silent as I felt more blood emerge. My lip was bleeding.

"Quit 'fore I give ye somethin' to damn cry about!"

His voice was furious, probably cause I turned him off.

He got up. **Got up!**

Either it's a miracle or hell.

He reached for his belt.

It's hell.

That's when I started thinking. Was this really how I was going to do this? Let him torment me more and more? The world's fucking ending and I'm letting him touch me! Is this what my mom would want? Is this how I'm going to die, scared, alert,_ abused_?

It seemed only a millisecond.

First I reached for it, then I grabbed it, the pointed at him, then-

_BAM!_

_THUMP!_

_CLANK!_

_Gasp!_

* * *

**So yeah. Thanks for reading my messed up story I made in the darkest place in my head!**

**Sooo, I've never EVER been violated by anyone, I just imagined it all in that dark place in my mind.**


	4. Chapter 4

_First of all, I have to thank everyone who commented! I meant to upload more yesterday but I fell down the stairs and had a blackout moment -_- so I'm sorry! Also I want to give a shoutout to PLLML for being brave._

Chapter 4: I didn't expect to see this.

First to fall was the gun. It fell to the grass and dirt with a clank.

Then came my father. He fell backwards with a sickening thump.

He was dead.

Actually _dead_!

I... killed... him...

His eyes still open, looking lifeless, but still scary.

_He'll always be scary._

I killed a fucking person! Someone I knew! My _dad_!

I hate killing, I hate the feeling, I hate the sound, I hate the memories!

I feel sick, I'm shaking, oh my god! My stomach... oh God, my stomach!

All that I had yesterday for food was thrown upon the ground. I still feel nauseous.

You can't describe killing a person, it's just too painful and personal.

I can't believe this! My burden is lifted, but at the same time it got worse!

I killed a murderer!

I killed my **dad!**

Oh my god, oh my god, oh my fucking god!

Then I hear the biters. They moaned and growled, I knew I had to get out quick. I jumped up, taking the gun in my shaking hands and started to go away from the scene.

_Where am I going?_ _Where_ can _I go?_

The tears rolled down my face, was I crying of joy or sadness?

I'll never know, but I need to _stop crying_!

I took my knife out of the sheath, and used it as a mirror. I need to tend to my wounds, as usual. Can't leave a trail of blood and shit or the biters follow me. I looked defeated. My eyes were red and puffy, and I looked beyond mortified. _Get it together!_ My lip was bleeding, there were bruises on the side of my face, and a black eye.

_It isn't that bad, thank The Lord._

I heard twigs snap, my head turned sharply to find the source. My shaking, bloody hands gripped the gun and handle of my knife tightly.

_Oh God!_

I hid behind a tree and prayed.

_Please, don't let me die now! I've gotten this far!_

A low growl stopped me dead. A biter was coming at me, ready to bite.

It's eyes where yellow, glazed over. It's mouth dripped dark red blood, a large bite hole in his stomach, neck, and arm. It's skin was torn up and rotten. The skin around his mouth was wearing away.

The biter half scared me, but it was the fact that whoever was there would know I was here that got me.

_Goddammit!_

An arrow shot through the biters head, two red feathers, one red.

_I'm dead._

I felt a cold wave of fear roll over me as I gripped my knife and gun tighter. More tears began to collect but I angrily and silently fought them away.

_No use now, ya fuckin' crybaby!_

"The hell you doin' kid? Jus' gonna let it bite'cha?"

* * *

_I haven't ever killed someone btw, all the thoughts on her killing were altered but from websites and other stuff.__I wanted her to be weak, but still try so hard to be tough. And the fact that she could actually pull it off scared her the most. I really wanted her mom's death to be a big part of the story, and that's probably why she hates killing._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Voices in my head.

_"The hell you doin' kid? Jus' gonna let it bite'cha?"_

A small yelp came from my mouth as the voice shattered my concentration and I went into survival mode. The knife gripped in my hands was swung towards the voice and I felt the adrenaline.

"Calm down! Yer gonna attract more of em'!" The man said, annoyed to hell.

It seemed like a herd of biters caught up to us, but it wasn't enough to be a herd. Just a big group.

He pulls out an arrow and loads his crossbow, beginning to shoot them in the head without hesitation.

I take a step back, wondering whether I should run or not.

_Run! Fucking run!_

I take more steps backwards, beginning to pick up the pace.

He takes a glance back, and says something under his breath.

Yeah, I'm fucking running!

"Kid! Kid stop!" He says, running after me, still trying to shoot the biters on the way.

_Just leave me alone! I'm trying to survive! I'm not bothering you! I'm not!_

Running fast through the woods, careful to miss stray roots and rocks, taking as many confusing turns as I could to mess him up.

"Kid! I'm gonna shoot ya if you don't stop runnin'!" He yelled.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

_You better fucking run!_

I take a turn around the tree, and in a flash of black, I stumble backwards.

With a loaded crossbow two inches from my face.

"I said to stop running!" He growled.

I stared directly at the arrow.

_I'm dead._

_Yeah, your fucked._

"You got a group I don't know about?"

No words could come to my mouth, so I just shook my head.

"You got in some fight." He said, almost as if stating business.

_Your too embarrassed to say you got your ass beat. What'cha gonna do now? _

That voice has haunted me ever since I was seven. It doesn't like me. Or what I do. And it doesn't hesitate to tell me. It loves to point out my flaws. **Each and every one of them.**

"Kid?"

Lost in thought, well, more like the voices in my head, I snapped out of it, trying to come up with a response that doesn't make me look weak. I can't trust him. I can't trust anyone. _Ever._

"I, uh, fell... sir."

Worst. Excuse. _Ever! _

It hadn't ever worked! At school, in any restaurant I ever went to, or in the public! **_So why the hell did I use that excuse?!_**

_Dumbass! Are you even trying?_

Mystery man didn't buy it either. At all. He took a step towards me, I flinched, aiming my gun at him.

"Better put the gun down kid!" He growled.

_I could shoot him._

_And start crying about it again? You don't have the guts!_

_I said shut up!_

_That's right, beg. That's what you always end up doing one way or another!_

I aimed the gun at the ground, but I'm still ready to shoot.

"Was it your brother or somethin'? Cus' I can make sure he doesn't do it again."

Well that's a different attitude. He's still threatening my life while being concerned about my welfare.

See?_ It's obvious! He even knew it was your family! He's being nice. He knows your weak! So did every other fucking person who knew you-_

"No! I- He, he died. He didn't- I fell. _Just fell. _Sir_._" I blurted out.

I had to stop the voices. They usually didn't get to me this bad.

"Just set the gun down." He ordered.

_Nah, he's back to being a threat._

But I did as I was told, and let my gun fall with a_ clunk _on the grass and leaves.

**"**And your knife."

_Clank._

"Anymore weapons on ya?"

I shake my head.

_Now your officially fucked._

A long silence makes me question if I'm being silently judged.

_"Some fall."_

**"**Sir?" I ask in confusion.

_"Some fall, huh kid."_

"Oh, uh, yes sir."

_"Cool story, now tell me the truth."_

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! And everyone who commented on my story, I want to give you an extra big thank you. **_

_****__I wanted Skylar to be weak, but still try so hard to be tough._

_****__The fact that she could actually kill someone scared her the most. I really wanted her mom's death to be a big part of the story, and that's probably why she hates killing so much._  



	6. Chapter 6

_Sorry for my absence. I blame the math teacher._

* * *

Chapter 6: The Truth

"Is she always this quiet?"

"Pretty much. She probably spoke ten words to me at the most."

"Why?"

"Make a fuckin' guess Glenn!"

"Sorry..."

"Whats on her arms?"

"Bandages."

"Did you find out what happened to her?"

"No, she's determined to say she's fell."

"What else did she-"

"Goddammit! Can you guys shut up?"

"..."

"Hershel, you should help her. She's hurt. Maybe find out something about her."

"Are you sure Rick?"

"Yeah."

"I'll come in with Daryl and we'll ask some questions while you take a look."

_I swear to god, these people will never stop talking!_

You'd think they've never seen a girl with scars before!

I hate being handcuffed. I don't have my gun or knife anyway, it's not like I have a chance. I couldn't kill someone here even_ with_ my weapons, hell they all look like they could pull some ninja shit on me at any moment.

Especially that one guy, who won't take his eyes off me!

Plus the kid my age is glaring me down.

_I'll be lucky to wake up tomorrow!_

_I need to get out of these handcuffs!_

_I need to get out of here!_

_I need to live!_

"Hi, my name is Hershel Greene." An old man asked, followed by two men, one of them was the one I met in the woods.

"This is Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon."

_Yeah, thanks for showing me the people who will murder me, very considerate of you._

The man known as Hershel came over, while Rick and Daryl stood at the doorway.

"So I was wondering if I could check to see if your arms were okay, did something happen?"

_No, I just wanted to waste my bandages for no reason! (Sarcasm alert)_

"I got cut by some glass."

"Oh my, well can I see it?"

"I think it's fine sir."

_I don't _trust _you!_

"He needs to help you." The man, Daryl, said in a low tone.

_Grow up and stand up to him. You don't need to do_ anything_!_

And that's why I don't get rid of those voices.

Sometimes they like me and can help.

Other times not too much.

"But I'm fine, see?"

_Too quiet, speak up._

Judgmental stares.

_Prove them wrong!_

"Unless your an expertise on first aid, I suggest you let him help." Rick says.

"I'm _fine_! I don't need your help." I say, my tone worse than intended.

Silence.

A long silence in fact.

They just exchanged looks while I prayed not to die.

"We were wondering if we could ask you some questions?"

_He doesn't trust you._

I nod.

"What's your name?"

"Skylar."

_They're gonna kill you._

_No they won't!_

_Why shouldn't they?_

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen." I lie.

_Your twelve._

_Your twelve and you know it._

Daryl stares me down. I just hunker down, trying to ignore his glare.

"Your only four-"

"Bullshit." Daryl interrupts.

I let some air out.

_Dammit._

"Daryl?" Rick turns to the man.

"She ain't fourteen. I can tell she's lying."

Rick turns back to me, looking hard in my eyes.

"Skylar, I'm only asking questions so I can find out if your trustworthy."

_He's gonna kill you!_

_Stop saying that!_

"Now how old are you really?"

"Twelve."

After a long series of questions, Rick _finally _gets to the hardest question of all.

"Can we trust you?"

Well, that's a good question.

I can't trust myself or my instincts.

Hell, I can't even trust my _thoughts_!

"I guess, sir."

"You guess?" He repeats.

"Yes sir."

"Daryl, get the gun."

_**THE FUCK?!**_


	7. Chapter 7

"The gun?" Daryl and I say in unison, except he's more in shock while I'm in terror.

"Yeah, her gun."

"Trust her already?"

"No! Daryl, just-just get the gun Daryl!" Rick says with force, though it seemed like it took effort not to cry.

Daryl mumbled something I couldn't hear, but I'm pretty sure it had something to do with me killing everyone.

Which, as I said before, is impossible.

I'm going to die.

This is it, I'm officially done.

Going straight up to heaven-, no, straight down to hell. Definitely hell. **Definitely**.

The gun was on the table, but Daryl had to make his point across that he didn't trust Rick's decision. He looked Rick dead in the eyes as he clamped the gun in his hand.

_Doesn't he get it? I'm _dead_!_

But Rick was patient, and the gun landed into his hands all the same.

_WAIT_! I'll have to face Dad again down in hell!

**FUCK NO!**

"Sir, I swear to God you don't have to kill me!" I say quickly, knowing my words don't have much of a chance to change my fate.

"You could just let me back into the woods-"

"I'm not going to kill you." Rick says emotionless, yet his eyes are dazed, like he's in a trance.

_What?_

"Now Skylar, I'm going to keep this gun with me until I'm sure we can trust you, Maggie already has your knife also, I'll tell her when to give it back." Rick says, and the next thing I know, the handcuffs are off.

What is it with Rick? He's so out of it, he almost looks high or something!

He even stumbled a little getting out of the cell! The fuck?!

Daryl followed out, then sat down on some steps and picks up a bowl of food.

Well, that leaves me here I guess.

Alone.

Knowing only Daryl, Rick, and some girl named Maggie.

Woohoo.

Well, at least there's a kid here my age, maybe he's okay.

Although I've never been good with friends, no one wanted a girl with scars and double black eyes to be friends with. Plus according to my teacher, I'm "socially awkward".

You know what, forget friends. It's the apocalypse. Were all gonna die soon anyway.

Now all I have to do is survive without weapons, ignore all the stares at me, and be trustworthy.

I'm fucked.

_As usual._


	8. Chapter 8

_**UUGGHHH!**__ FanFiction hasn't let me login or anything for the past few weeks and I've just about killed myself over it._

_I'm so sorry for making everyone wait for new chapters!_

_But especially for Mikasa Yamato and the guest. Sorry!_

_So I made it a little longer than usual 3._

* * *

So standing there against the wall, eating some sort of meat that a lady gave to me is all I can do at the moment.

I don't know when Rick left (or even where he went) but someone said he probably wouldn't be back for awhile.

So far, no plan of escape, but I'm thinking and planning the hardest I can.

The damn place is a prison though! It was built to keep people inside without escape, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to kill someone to get out...

I take a look around, careful to keep my head down.

_You can't trust them, you need to make them trust you to get out._

I need to get my knife back, that's the number one priority.

Get my knife and get out of _here._

That kid with the hat looks easy to take down, if I could just lure him somewhere quiet... Somewhere alone, I could make him get my knife and show me the way out.

Or at least get my knife.

Yeah, I'll try that...

"Hey kid, you comin' or what?" Daryl suddenly asked me.

I looked to him with wondering eyes.

"Well you ain't stayin' with the baby, we don't trust ya that much." He said, his tone darker.

I'm pretty sure I somehow managed to piss him off.

After twelve years of making people angry, I can tell people's opinions based off of their expressions and the way they move.

His tone of his voice would get rougher, move demanding.

_I've already annoyed someone._

But I followed without question, the kid and a tall man in front of me were there as well.

I stayed in the back of the small group, taking in my surroundings.

The tall man would sometimes look back at me, as if to make sure I was there.

"Check it out man!" He said, looking at some dead biters.

"Probably just one or two of em', don't look like they got much fight." Daryl replied, shining the flashlight at the forever dead bodies.

"They ain't goin' nowhere, we'll take care of em on the way back."

Daryl walked over to the kid and did a little whistle to get his attention.

With the tall man examining something else, I just followed slowly behind Daryl.

"Ya know, my mom, she liked her wine. And she liked to smoke in bed." Daryl started.

_The hell is he telling his life story for?_

He continued to talk about playing with some friends. He ran after his friends, they were too fast for him because they had bikes. When he turned the corner, there were firetrucks.

His friends were looking at him, and so was everyone else.

His house was up in flames.

My heart sunk. A great pain welled up in me.

His mom _died._

Up in flames.

_Dead._

"That was my mom in bed. Burnt down to nothin," he paused, "that was the hard part, she's just gone, erased, nothin' left of her."

I stopped listening and tried to think of something else, anything else.

_Why does everything have to somehow relate to parents here?_

But at least he was lucky enough not to see her death.

Not like me.

He'll never be fucked up in the same way as me.

I could have done something, _something_ to save her!

But I only stood there and watched as he pounded her head against the table again and again and again.

I didn't do anything!

I heard her screams!

Saw the blood!

I_ fucking let her die!_

_You fucking monster!_

"I shot my mom, _I _ended it. It was real." The kid said.

* * *

I sat there.

Trying to forget everything.

Trying to forget everyone.

But it's hard to forget things that cause you so much pain.

The blonde teen was stirring up some food while Hershel took care of a baby.

I never liked babies, they were loud and needy, always crying for no reason whatsoever.

I heard footsteps, I turned around to see who was coming.

It was Rick.

I hadn't seen him since this morning, what could he have been doing?

He started walking towards the baby, and picked it up.

Only a little sob or two came out of the baby, but otherwise it was silent.

Rick started to smile, looking happily at the baby.

Holding it close.

_It must be his baby then._

He looked so grateful, so relived.

So _happy_.

I returned to looking at the ground.

It was... weird... to see Rick handle his baby with such care and delicacy.

He looked like he wouldn't hurt that baby if his life depended on it, _**ever**_!

It was just so different.

_You're pathetic! You can't even _look_ at a baby without thinking of your dad!_

_You make me sick!_

* * *

Looking at the woman from a distance, I knew she'd be a problem.

I knew the moment my eyes set on the figure that this would change everything.

My heart missed a beat and I stared with wide eyes at her.

_No!_

Yes, she would be a problem.

A big one.

Because not only is another person in the prison hard to deal with...

But I _know_ her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Carl, get a blanket!"

"Beth! Water, and a towel."

She is hurt! She needs _help_!

She needs medical attention!

Rick sets her down on the floor, and started pouring water on her.

She was slowly realizing where she was, and seemed to not like her situation.

She made a movement towards her sword, but Rick wouldn't let her.

"We aren't going to hurt you!" He reassured, but his actions told otherwise.

"Rick!" A voice carried in from behind us.

"Who the hell is this?" Daryl asked, staring at Michonne.

"You wanna tell us your name?" Rick asked her, slowly letting her sit up.

_It's Michonne. Her name is Michonne._

I wanna say her name.

It would be easier that way, she wouldn't be interrogated or anything, I could just say it now.

But what if she got mad at me?

"You wanna tell us your name?" Rick whispered to her.

Her panting was growing, she needs _help._

But instead of helping her, I just followed behind Carl.

That's what Rick said to do, I don't want to disobey.

_You should have helped, what if she dies because of an infection or something? Then it's all _your_ fault._

She was up against the cell, staring at Rick.

Her gaze went to me, and I froze.

_If Rick finds out you know her, he'll think you know other people. Then he won't trust you and you'll never get outta here!_

Rick had made it very clear that they didn't want me to lie.

He had that "no-bullshit" tone in his voice when he asked me if I had a group or not.

What if they think she's part of my group or something?! _I"m fucking dead if they find out!_

Rick turned to me, Daryl gave me a side look.

_Who's more gullible?!_

"W-What?" I say. My voice is like an echo in the dead silence.

"C'mon." Daryl says, so I follow.

_Did I convince them?!_

The last thing I hear is Michonne's panting.

* * *

Well, I'm just going to guess that they have a hidden army somewhere in this prison and people come out one at a time when Rick needs them.

Apparently there are more people here than I even knew existed.

Some woman came out of a cell and started hugging Rick.

I don't get it.

But that's not the big issue.

The big issue is Michonne.

Why is Michonne here?!

Why is she here of all places?!

How did she even get here?!

I barely even knew her before all this, but she doesn't like me.

No, she hates me.

But she has a good reason to.

* * *

They all left.

All the strong ones, all the smart ones, anyone who could actually fend for themselves.

But I'll admit, sticking me with mystery woman was smart.

Rick said to stay with her, and since she has a gun, I'm not in much luck of escaping.

I was just quiet for the most part.

Let things happen as they should.

Keep my head down, and make sure not to be suspicious.

She didn't say a word, in fact, she just about kept clear of me.

And I'm glad.

* * *

-The Walking Dead-

* * *

I didn't get half the stuff Rick was saying.

All I know is that I'm stuck in this room where Rick is arguing with some random people I've never seen.

Remember before when I said they have a hidden army? Yeah, apparently that's not a joke.

I let my mind wander.

_There's no one to stop me after all this._

_Dad is dead, he can't tell me what to do anymore._

_I don't have to please anyone anymore. I'm free._

_No more beatings, no more insults, no more-_

**_"I can't help you!"_**

I flinched and stepped back quickly.

**_Thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump!_**

My heart felt like it would jump out of my chest.

_**"Get out!"**_

What the hell is wrong with him?!

_**"Get-Get out!"**_

My heart raced, I took more steps backward, slowly, making sure not to get any attention from anyone,_ especially_ Rick.

_**"You don't belong here!"**_

I tried to be as silent as I could be.

_Don't let him hear you! Don't let him see you! Don't let him _hurt_ you!_

**_"Leave!"_**

By this point, I don't think I'll ever stop flinching.

Every yell seems to trigger something inside me, and I just flinch and move back.

_**"Get out!"**_

Others try to calm him, but Rick doesn't seem to even notice them.

_**"Why?! Are you here now?!"**_

_I need to get out of here!_

He's gonna hurt someone, he has _that_ anger in him, or something that's close to that anyway.

I can only hold my breath and hope he doesn't know I'm here.

**_"Just go! Go, go!"_** A man I don't know says forcefully to the others.

_I want to go too! I **need** to go!_ He's fucking _insane_! He can't even control himself! Why are they keeping me in here with someone who could kill us all in a moment?!

I stiffen when I collide with the wall behind me.

Rick just paces, looking dazed and actually _scared._

Intense fear running through my body, I realize it might all be over.

But something like this isn't forgivable.

Rick is _insane, _and I'll never think of him otherwise.

Trust gets you killed.

And I'm tired of being the victim.

* * *

_Ugh, this chapter took FOREVER to write. _

**_Fucking FanFiction is jacked up and won't let me login or post anything new, it just says "ERROR". _**

_But thanks for reading anyway!_


	10. Chapter 10

I left the room alongside mystery woman in the back of the group.

Rick went out first, so I went out last.

Everyone's footsteps echoed in the hallway, carrying in the empty jail.

My heart was still beating fast, and I realized I had been shaking a little.

I locked my eyes to the ground, trying to attract no attention.

_They can't see me this scared, that's fucking stupid! Then they'll find my weaknesses, and then I'm done._

I made sure to keep _far_ away from Rick.

He still has that confused look on his face.

"What's you're name?" Mystery woman asked me, as if that whole thing didn't go down.

_Did she not witness the same thing I did? _

"Skylar, ma'am." I say.

She smiles, but she's trying _way_ too hard to be upbeat.

Her eyes hold pain. She looks like she'll cry any moment.

"My name is Carol."

Just for the sake of her happiness, I give her a small painful smile and immediately go back to watching the cement below.

I actually feel sorry for Carol.

She seems impressionable, like she'd be that person who doesn't realize the horrors in life.

She will later realize that I'm not worth the effort.

* * *

I've lost enough time as it is, and with Daryl gone, Rick disoriented, and more people for the others to take care of, I think this might be my only chance of escape.

I've pretty much gone under the radar in terms of being noticed, so I think I'll do it tonight.

Soon.

_Like right now._

Most people are already in their cells, Carl's cell was close to the front of the hall, and that girl who had my knife had been talking to him about something in her cell.

Long story short, he was coming to cell a little late, meaning less people awake.

He got out of a cell, finally done talking to that girl.

As he walks, I lean forward, out of the shadows.

"Hey." I say, leaning against the wall.

He turns to me, his eyes dark, and with a dangerous edge. His gun is up a little to high for my comfort.

"I just want to talk." I say, putting my hands up in surrender.

He steps closer, but slowly.

"Geez, I'm not a biter or anything!" I say.

_Just a little closer..._

_Come on, come on!_

_Get the fuck over here!_

"C'mon, I don't wanna wake anyone." I say, walking around the corner, giving him no choice but to follow or leave me.

I held my breath, waiting anxiously, praying to _God_ that he would follow me.

Walking down the empty hallway, the same adrenaline came back.

Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, I let the air out when he turned the corner and stared at me with caution.

The gun was still with him.

"So I heard your mom died."

_**Why the hell did I mention that?! Is that all I could think of?!**_

His expression faltered, his eyes fading from suspicion to sadness.

Even I could tell his heart had dropped. The grip on his gun loosened and his body relaxed and I could see the toughness he was trying so hard to keep escape him.

"That's not you're business." He said, trying to muster the same tough-guy act. But I had hit his nerve, and he was already starting to crack.

_ Well his voice was anyway._

"Why not?" I pushed on, trying to get him unnerved even more.

"It's just not!" He demanded, anger starting to build up.

"You don't know me! You don't know what I've been through!" He said angrily, pain filling his voice.

I stayed expressionless.

He took a fatal step towards me, about to challenge me.

_What a mistake._

I lunged at him, slamming him against the wall with all my force.

Caught off guard by the sudden movement, he dropped his gun and instinctively tried to get me off.

_Another mistake!_

I threw a punch at his face, he faltered, trying to catch his balance.

He tried shoving me off, but I had a good grip on him.

"Think you can get away?" I say.

He grunts, fear in his eyes.

Excitement, adrenaline, fear, it was all pumping through my veins!

"DA-" He staeted to yell but I hurried to shut him up by punching him in the stomach.

"Shut the fucking hell up before I kill you right here!" I growl angrily, getting up close to his face.

_I can't lose now!_

With the air knocked out of him, he was weak.

"Where's the exit?!" I demanded.

Fear pumped though my body, making me want to hurry as fast as I could.

He tried to say something, but he couldn't talk.

_Dammit, you shouldn't have knocked the wind outta him!_

"Come on! Come on!" I demanded angrily.

He coughed, "Dad!" he croaked.

**_Come on!_**

"Where can I get out of here?!"

He just looked into my eyes, his where filled with anger.

"Fuck you!" He whispered.

Rage **explodes** inside me!

I punched him again and again, anger still building with each punch.

_He was supposed to help me god dammit!_

I started kicking, punching, and slapping him furiously.

I can't even stop!

I grabbed his throat, he coughed and sputtered, trying desperately pushing me off him.

But I had a death grip on his throat.

_I want to break him. _

He started to really struggle, any kind of fight left in him was draining at the moment.

_I want to see him _cry_!_

The world spun and I hit the wall beside Carl, staring directly into a pair of brown shocked eyes._**  
**_

_I lost._

* * *

_So I'm trying to make my story better by adding more description and all that..._

_So how did y'all like Skylar being completely insane?_

_I tried bringing more emotion to her than just "fear" and "sadness"._

_But damn, she beat him pretty hard! _

_Sharkiesha can't do shit against Skylar!_

_(Lol I'm having too much fun with this)_

_Thanks for reading!_


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